Black and Gold
by IBidYouAdieu
Summary: The Doctor has lost The Master, the last living connection he will ever have to his lost homeland. Martha longs to comfort him. Will he let her? Yes...and so much more. Ten/Martha. Mature content. Please review!


Hello! So - this is pure, selfish undulgence on my part. I dunno, I had a couple of glasses of wine and felt inspired, and about an hour and half later, this was sitting on my computer screen. I am considering continuing the story, but for now it's a one shot. It's naughty..._ooh_, is it naughty. **So be warned now.** It's also...rather intense. If angsty love is not your cup o'tea, that's a shame. You may not dig this. If it is - and of course, let's not forget the naughty - please do continue on, and let me know what you think! Depending on your reviews, I might like to have a go at continuing it. Thanks in advance!

Also, I am required to tell you that I own nothing. Except a kind of sad obsession with Ten/Martha 'shipping.

* * *

_**Black and Gold**_

A Doctor Who Oneshot by kendrawriter

"…_if you're not really here  
then the stars don't even matter  
now I'm filled to the top with fear  
but it's all just a bunch of matter  
__**cause if you're not really here  
then I don't want to be either**__  
I want to be next to you  
black and gold, black and gold, black and gold…"_

**-Black and Gold**, Katy Perry version.

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

Martha Jones had never, ever seen The Doctor this way.

Never.

Not even when she could tell he was thinking about Rose.

He sat, cradling The Master in his arms, tears falling freely from his large, brown eyes, half shaking with grief and utter, naked despair. He looked lost. So lost. And so very alone. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she could literally _feel_ The Master's soul departing, and she felt more for The Doctor in this moment than perhaps she ever had. Her silly infatuation with him all those months, her feelings of longing, her foolish attraction to him – _none_ of that mattered one little bit as she watched him sitting there holding the dead body of the last living thing in the world from his home.

Suddenly she realized that she had never really loved him – until this moment.

This entire horrible year in which she had been alone, spending every waking moment aching to return to The Doctor and her family. Longing to see his face, longing for all this horror to end – it was all nothing compared to the way the sight of him now made her feel. It was indescribable. Her whole body was racked with it, so intensely that she felt she might faint dead away.

Suddenly she knew that she would literally do anything – _anything_ – to take away the pain.

She knew now like she'd never been able to grasp before that The Doctor was the one and only man in the world that she would die for. Suddenly she was so in love with him that she couldn't stand it. She felt his pain, felt his loneliness, as if it was her own. She clung to her mother, and the room was completely silent now.

The Doctor had stopped crying. Now he sat still, large pools of tears just sitting in his eyes, and gazed down at The Master's face. He didn't take any notice of anyone else – for now there was only him and The Master.

Then slowly he stood up, bringing The Master with him, and carried the other Time Lord from the room.

Martha's heart broke, and she had to restrain herself from running after him. She held her mother tightly.

Jack walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She moved her eyes, which were blurred by tears, to look up at him. "Let's go."

"But, Jack…" she couldn't speak further.

His eyes told her that he knew exactly what she wanted to say, and he shook his head. "Martha, let's get your family home. And then…you can go to The Doctor."

She nodded, taking a deep breath, allowing him to squeeze her shoulder affectionately. She looked down at her mother, who was staring at nothing. "Let's go home, okay mum?" And she wanted to burst into tears but she didn't dare.

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

"He's there." Jack pointed, his voice low and gentle, towards where The Doctor was standing.

There was a pyre set up on the rocky hillside, and atop the pyre was the body of The Master, wrapped in white linen. The Doctor stood with a torch in his left hand, gazing at it yet through it. It was dark, the sun having set on an incredibly long day, but the light from the flames illuminated his face just enough for her to see that it was folded into a hard mask of grief.

The TARDIS was visible a few feet behind him. Martha took a few steps closer, but stopped, suddenly afraid to disturb him. She didn't know if she should, if she had any right to. But the feeling that had come upon her that morning watching The Master die was still there.

She heard Jack turning to walk away. Back to their car, where he had driven her up here from her parents' house.

Her father promised to look after her mother, who had gone straight up to her bedroom and lay down when they got home. She went to sleep and was still in bed when Martha left. She was so worried for them, but her father and sister could plainly see that she was only half there. The rest of her was practically screaming to find The Doctor, and when he couldn't take the far away look in her eyes any more her father told her to go. "Just go to him," he said. "We'll be fine. Come back to us when you've done what you need to."

She was torn, but he didn't have to tell her twice. Jack had managed to get The Doctor to speak just two sentences before he closed the TARDIS doors on him. "I'll go to the North Downs. Botley Hill…I'll burn him there…"

They took Leo's Land Rover and drove up.

Now she stood, every bone in her body wanting to run to him, but she was so afraid to move an inch. For fear she'd shatter something, ruin something, by disturbing his farewell to the only family he'd had left.

He stood on the other side, staring in silence for the longest time, and she stood waiting, her heart feeling as if it would burst.

Then he moved suddenly, and walked towards the pyre. He lit it and the flames rose instantly, swallowing the structure and obscuring the site of The Master's body.

Martha held her breath. Then, finally, his eyes landed on hers.

She wanted to sob, but she didn't. She held it in, swallowing it down. It was painful, like a rock being forced down her throat. They looked across at each other. His mask remained – a hard shell of grief, his eyes dark yet sparkling with the golden-orange glow of the fire.

Then he nodded, very, very slightly.

Martha let her breath go and she instantly moved toward him, though slowly.

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

The Doctor saw Martha. Watched her coming.

Watched her…and for the first time in all the time she'd been with him, saw with acute clarity the entire warm, beating, breathing life of Martha Jones. Her eyes and her mouth and hair and all the minute details of every inch of her swathed in shadow and golden orange light from the flames that were now consuming the last living connection he would ever have to Gallifrey.

She moved toward him slowly, almost timidly. Her eyes were large and deep. Gold upon black – flame in ink. He felt her movement like sonic waves hitting him as she approached. When she was but a footstep away from him, she stopped. Looked up into his eyes.

He stood as still as stone. He waited.

Martha slowly reached up, the small, delicate fingers of her hand splaying out…and touched him lightly on the chest. He deflated at her touch, and before he could stop himself he was clutching her hand, holding it firmly in place.

Tears began to fall freely from her eyes just then. He looked at them, watched them fall, and he sighed deeply. She loved him. For the first time, he looked on her and saw without regret or concern or any sense of guilt that she loved him. Her hand on him was like a living connection to her feelings, and he closed his eyes briefly to let it wash over him.

Then he swallowed, and said softly: "Come with me."

Martha looked confused for only a moment, but then she nodded and allowed him to take her hand and lead her away from the fire, towards the TARDIS.

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

Martha followed him silently, her hand in his, her heart beating a mile a minute. She had an indescribable urge to open her mouth and let all of her feelings for him fall out, everywhere, all over the place. To tell him over and over again how sorry she was, how she felt his pain, how she wanted to comfort him and take the pain away any way she could.

But she held it in, and she followed. She didn't know what would happen, but she knew she couldn't hold it in for long. She simply gripped his hand and tried to let that one, simple gesture be enough for the moment.

He let her go long enough to unlock the TARDIS, then lead her inside. She closed the door behind them with her other hand and he paused long enough to let her. He led her up the ramp and to the console before finally letting her go and continuing on a few steps, taking off his long coat and draping it across the worn passenger seat.

He put some small distance between them and turned around to face her.

The silence in the huge golden room echoed and hummed. They looked at each other for what felt like a very long time.

Martha felt very exposed in front of him now. And he was looking at her, _really looking at her_, studying her inch by inch. For the first time. She could feel his gaze like prickly things all over her skin.

She didn't speak. She didn't want to shatter the moment.

Her heart pounded.

Then he moved again, and came to stand very close in front of her. So close…he had been this close before, many times, but never like this.

It was as if some invisible, hot, magnetic force was pulling them towards each other. It was the most connected she had ever felt to The Doctor…_her_ Doctor…the man she thought she was in love with for so many months. But this feeling was so much more than what she fancied was love back then. It had taken a year of running, hiding, fearing for her life, longing for him, and now seeing how utterly alone he was for her to realize just how much she really, _really_ loved him. It was all-consuming.

He stood so close, and leaned his head gently down to hers. He exhaled through his nostrils. She felt his breath, warm and steady, caress the skin of her face. At first his hands remained at his sides, but then he lifted one to touch her face. The anticipation was so palpable that Martha felt nearly overpowered by it, intoxicated.

She didn't move.

He was breathing slowly, his chest rising and falling deeply, as if it was hard for him to manage it. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky; thickly coated with emotion; unlike any time she'd heard it.

He touched her face, his fingertips grazing the surface just barely, and he whispered: "Say it…" He breathed the words, his mouth now inches from hers. "Please."

She obeyed, looking up into his eyes. "I love you, Doctor."

His face melted, and the sorrow in his eyes touched her somewhere so deeply that she gasped softly. But there was something else there. Something fiery, something smoldering; something she realized she'd been waiting to see since the day he asked her to travel with him.

Suddenly his fingers turned from caressing to gripping, and they laced in her hair and held her face up towards his, and he leaned in and kissed her. It took her breath away – and he was suddenly so close that she felt consumed by him. His body and scent surrounded her on all sides, folding her up and not letting her go. She exhaled, and when her lips parted he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, silencing her. Blazing, liquid desire swept through her from head to toe, and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

Martha stood on her tiptoes and suddenly his arm was around her waist, gripping her tightly, pulling her into him. He opened his mouth again and plunged their tongues together, rolling them around, sucking on her bottom lip, tasting every inch of her mouth. He held her still tighter, and when she felt him hard against her stomach, she practically withered.

Then he set her down again, and softened his kisses, taking her face in both hands. He kissed her gently on the lips, again and again and again, like he was suddenly aware that that is what lips are for. A new sensation, a new way of touching her, of being close to her, a discovery that was so much better and so much more what he needed than merely what her friendship could provide.

"I need you, Martha…" he uttered urgently, bending himself so that his erection pressed into her rigidly. Her insides melted; the space between her legs heating up so intensely that she dug into his chest with her fingernails. He kept kissing her, over and over, gripping her face between his slender hands. "I need you…I need you…Martha…_I need you __**now**_…"

She could feel his desperation with each kiss; with the way he gripped her tightly to him. She matched it with full force, letting all those days of hoping that _one_ day it would be like this flow out of her in a tidal wave.

He pulled back slightly, and looked into her eyes beseechingly. She let it show on her face, laid it all bare for him like never before. She would do anything; she was so passionately, so irrevocably in love with him.

"I'm yours…" she told him matter-of-factly, and she meant it.

He clenched his jaw and lowered himself, picking her up again. She wrapped her legs around him, her eyes never leaving his, as he gripped her possessively by the bum and turned her around. He carried her out of the console room and into a corridor out of sight.

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

There was a quiet storm building inside The Doctor, and it would break at any moment.

He carried Martha down the corridor towards his bedroom. They didn't speak, and he hardly paid attention to the path before him. They simply stared into each other's eyes as he went. He saw everything in them, Martha's eyes; every time he hurt her, made her fall deeper in love with him, inspired her, let her down, made her feel less than, made her feel valued, rescued her. He saw their life together and how much it meant to her all over her beautiful face.

He wanted it. He had to have it. He was desperate for it.

They finally reached his bedroom and he kicked the door open, carrying her inside. The room was dark, but he didn't bother with the light.

He sat her down in front of his bed. She gazed up at him, her face so beautiful, so vulnerable, so open and so willing. He felt her love for him coursing through his veins, like a lifeline…his only lifeline.

Then he could not wait.

The Doctor grabbed Martha and crushed their bodies together, making her gasp as he grinded against her, feeling electricity in the way her supple body undulated against his painful erection.

He kissed her, rocking her back as he tasted her, wanting to devour her on the spot.

She whimpered, which egged him on. At the same moment they both began to tear at each other's clothes in the dark, both so worked up that they were literally annoyed at the obstacle of garments to deal with.

He got his tie undone and swung his arm wide to get it off his neck. She kicked off her shoes and snatched her blouse over her head, tossing it aside. The Doctor reached out and pulled her jeans and knickers down in one go. She stepped out of them and grabbed his trousers, loosening and pulling at his belt. He had them and his trainers off in a second, and then she ripped open his shirt to expose his pale skin.

When he got it off, he fell on top of her, breathing hard and feeling the desperation mounting with every moment. He kissed her harshly again, squeezing her breast through the lace fabric of her black bra, eliciting a moan from her throat.

"Doctor…!" she pleaded when he came up for air. He opened her legs for her, grabbed her hips and pulled her into his erection. Her lips quivered and fresh tears sprouted in her eyes.

He got his boxer briefs down, and his cock sprang out long and hard, stiffening as the air touched it. Then the inferno between Martha's legs called out to him and he nearly swooned with anticipation. He gripped her hips hard, and looked into her eyes.

She told him _now_ with her gaze.

He snatched at her panties, tearing them to get them off. The Doctor grasped at her, holding her in place, and gave one hard thrust.

She cried out, then literally _cried_, as he pushed himself inside of her. The hot, slick folds of her sex enveloped him, encasing his aching member in a cocoon and practically pulling him in further.

He felt emotion crashing through him, mingled with insatiable lust, and he slammed himself into her again. He felt her thighs quivering all over, but the vibration was inside of her as well, and it caused his back to bow over with the intensity of it.

She reached up and touched his face and it broke loose, the emotion, and he grit his teeth at the force of it. "_Uggrrhhah_… Martha…!" he cried, burying his face in her neck. Then he slammed himself inside of her, unable to get enough of her, over and over again. He couldn't stop, he needed her so badly, it overpowered him.

The Doctor made love to Martha with every last stitch of himself, his eyes shut tight, seeking relief, seeking the end of it all, of everything, wanting to disappear inside of her if he could.

She cried and clung to him, and soon _he_ was crying. Hot tears tore out of him and his body was racked with so much at once…too much. He couldn't stop. He was vaguely concerned about hurting her but he couldn't slow down, couldn't let up.

She took it – took all of him, biting her lip at the force of his ministrations, holding him close.

He gripped her thighs tightly, his fingers practically digging into her soft, warm flesh. Oh it felt so good. _She_ felt so good inside; it was the only thing in the world, now. "Say it again!' he growled as he plowed into her, beads of sweat sprouting at his hair line and on his back.

"I l-love you," she moaned.

It drove him further, he wanted to go deeper. He tried with each thrust to reach as deeply as he could, and she was whimpering with pleasure. He asked her to say it again, and she obeyed without hesitation.

"I love you, I love you, I love you! Doctor, I love you…!"

«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»

Martha's mind was lost – her body was nothing but sensation.

The Doctor…_her_ Doctor…was inside of her so deep, moving with so much need, that she could not think at all. She could only feel. Feel how much she loved him, feel how desperately he needed her now. The year that never was disappeared, the horror and confusion faded away, the burning pyre just outside the TARDIS was no more. There was only Martha and The Doctor, locked in the throws of raw passion, and it was bliss.

He sat up with her, and carried on tirelessly. They were both sweating, and Martha felt pleasure tinged with pain as he plundered her over and over again.

Until at last, she felt white heat begin to uncoil deep inside. With each thrust, it grew, and she laced her fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and she threw her head back, straddling him, meeting his thrusts by pumping her hips against his hard abs.

She was no longer a receiver, but an active participate now. She felt his anger, rising underneath the sorrow and lust, and it spurred her on. The white heat was spreading, and she shivered in anticipation, her whole body acting to feed it.

Her Doctor was making love to her. Tears streamed down her face when that realization hit home. All those months of longing and rejection, and now her Doctor was finally, _finally_ making love to her, finally letting her fully show him how he felt about him.

Martha couldn't help herself. She cried, and he didn't need to ask her this time, she said the words like making a mantra, wanting him to hear it desperately. "Oh, Doctor I love you so much!"

And then the white heat burst apart in a violent crescendo, rocketing through her entire body in a blinding wave of release. Her body went limp with the force of it, and her mind let go entirely as she let it wash over her.

He came soon after, making a high-pitched noise of ecstasy, falling back again onto the bed with her. He emptied himself inside of her, violently.

They rested for a moment, breathing hard in a ball of shuddering, entangled limbs.

His breath was hot and sticky against the slick skin of her neck.

Martha weakly gathered her wits, her vision spotty and her mouth dry.

Then she felt him getting hard again inside of her.

She was surprised, but she didn't receive time to process it. He slid out of her, stood up, slipped all the way out of his boxer briefs, and returned to her seconds later.

She gave a weak little moan, but she was ready for him. Willing.

He gazed at her with fire in his eyes – a golden gleam in pools of black ink – running his hands up her body possessively.

He kissed her again, this time very carefully and gently, before reaching down and unhooking her bra.

His hard phallus, still slick with her juices, slid against her inner thigh.

The Doctor got Martha's bra off and lowered his kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, softly…tenderly.

He cupped her breast in one hand and dipped his head, pulling her limp body up against his. He dipped his tongue and tasted her erect nipple, causing her to whimper, before taking it fully into his mouth and sucking on it with sensual slowness.

Little zings of electricity danced through her, until she felt a new wave of moisture and heat between her legs. She realized that he was giving her time to get ready for him again as he kneaded her breast with his mouth. He tended carefully to one breast, then the other, this time more slowly and to blissful effect.

Then he reached down with his other hand and slid his finger along her wet folds, testing the effect he was having. On finger slipped inside, then another, and Martha gasped.

His strong arm slid along her stomach, and he moved the hand gripping her breast to grasp hold of her round bottom, as he slowly teased her tender clitoris with his thumb while pumping his hand gently. In and out, in and out, building on the heat that was already raging inside of her. He brought her breathlessly close to release that way.

Then she couldn't take any more, and she grabbed his arm, staying his ministrations.

She looked into his eyes, telling him silently that she was ready for more; so much more.

Without hesitation, he removed his fingers from her, and turned her over so that she was on her hands and knees, facing the head of the bed and the wall behind it.

She closed her eyes and waited, and seconds later his hands were gripping her hips. He pushed inside, this time more gently than before. It was exquisite – he moved slowly, teasing her, drawing it out with sensual, purposeful thrusts.

The Doctor was an expert love maker, she realized with almost giddy pleasure. The desperation driving him with reckless abandon only minutes before was now replaced with the clear-headed desire to pleasure her, now. And she met that desire, giving back everything he gave her.

He pumped her faster now, and she responded by curving her bottom up, so that she could feel it more intensely as his cock rubbed against her clit. The angle drew breathless moans from him as well, and he gripped her tighter now as they moved in time with one another, locking onto a perfect rhythm.

Martha opened her mouth and moaned, tossed her head back, her eyes shut tight, and let him take her.

After a short while of this rhythm, he suddenly grew urgent again, and he pulled her up against him so that she was almost sitting atop his thighs.

He laced an arm around her waist, and she reached one up to place a hand at the back of his neck.

He bit down gently on her shoulder and she moaned again. She slammed her damp, hot ass against his thighs, meeting his thrusts with renewed need, reveling in the feel of him long and hard sliding in and out of her, tantalizing her.

They both let their pleasure escape through their mouths more freely now, both reveling in the sounds of their moaning echoing in the darkness.

They kissed several times, and Martha felt so completely his that she wanted him to grip her tighter, wanted him to fuck her with abandon, wanted it so badly that it made her thighs quake. She pumped his shaft, trying to express this need with each movement, curling her ass into him, her sex so hot and wet that it made him groan deep in his throat and hold her closer.

"Doctor…fuck me. _Fuck me!_ Oh, _god_ don't ever stop!"

He growled, gripping her hips, now actively slamming her into his cock, making her flesh vibrate.

That exqusite white heat began to roil to life, undulating within her, and she made an 'oh' with her mouth, moaning with pleasure. "_Oooh_…yes…yes! Yes, oh please, Doctor…don't stop."

"You're mine…" he growled, his voice deep and almost menacing as he egged on her orgasm, suddenly moving as if he could feel what she was feeling – as if his telepathy was guiding him in exactly what to do to bring her to release. She welcomed it. She felt powerful and sexy, alive and on fire – her Doctor had claimed her, finally, and she would give herself to him over and over and over again if he wanted her to. "Martha…you're mine…say it."

"I'm yours! I love you."

"Don't…" he shuddered, close to his own orgasm. "Don't ever…leave me…Martha!"

"Never!"

They came together this time, with one giant thrust. She cried out loudly and he squeezed her in his hands, so tightly that it hurt, but she didn't give a damn.

She shook in his arms, making little noises of weak pleasure, molded to his body.

She was his. She had known it the moment she saw him weeping for The Master. She was his – she would do anything for him, she loved him so, and now there was nothing left to give. She had given it all, gladly, because she knew that was exactly what he needed.

She didn't feel used, or cheap, or foolish. She felt liberated. She didn't care about Rose, or anything else in the moment, except the feel of her Doctor's skin pressed hotly against hers. The feel of him spent inside her; his breath rolling out in warm little puffs; his damp hair between her fingers at the back of his neck; his hand wrapped possessively around her bare breast; his strong thighs beneath her naked bum.

They were both utterly knackered.

Dimly, in the back of her mind, Martha realized that Jack was still out there somewhere, waiting. She also realized that The Master's body was still burning on the pyre. But The Doctor did not move to dress, or slip away. He held her as close as he could under the circumstances as he ushered under his sheets.

They were both burning up, but the sweat was drying with their movements. He took her in his arms and they lay down together. She rested her head on his chest, and listened to his twin hearts beating slowly, satisfied and at peace for now.

They fell asleep this way. Martha drifted off in her Doctor's arms, with no one and no thing in the world that mattered but them.

In the morning, they would face the world together. But for now, they were all alone in the universe.


End file.
